


Sam and Ryan play a little Walking Dead

by jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [226]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Sam and Ryan play a little Walking Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

  
**players only. backdated to Halloween 2013 in Sarlat, France. takes place after[they have fun with the shocking booth](http://ryan-kwanten.dreamwidth.org/365.html) and attend the [Costume Ball](http://www.journalfen.net/community/citadel/63873.html).**

_warning for (fake) gunplay_

They could leave the Halloween Costume Ball and go back to their room, sure. But what's fun about that? Rick Grimes does not do hotel suites, especially not ones as fancy as those in the Sarlat Citadel. Ryan grins as, behind him, Sam directs a menacing zombie groan at a giggling slave, and pushes open one of the doors leading outside to the manicured grounds. He keeps going until they reach a small copse of trees, then turns to grab the back of Sam's mangled shirt, hauling him up against a thick trunk.

"Filthy walker," he growls, pinning the "zombie" with one hand against his chest, and setting the barrel of his fake police-issue pistol to Sam's temple. "I'm gonna blow your rotted brains out."

"Gar," Sam groans, shoving Ryan back, his neck craned to avoid the gun.

Ryan stumbles but catches himself before he can fall. "I am not your fucking dinner," he snarls, and backhands Sam across the face. Not nearly at full strength, true, but it's something that he as himself would never do.

Fuck. Sam blinks hard, shaking his head, not having expected that at all, and he growls at Ryan, still in character, body slamming him into the ground.

Pushing his prey away doesn't seem to be working, so Ryan closes on him in a grapple instead. They roll over the grass and he tries to pin Sam, straddling him, but he can't quite maintain the leverage.

Sam tears at Ryan's clothes, his uniform, pulling the shirt free from his pants, open, bucking against him every time Ryan tries to get him pinned until, suddenly, he has Ryan under him, the gun within reach. He growls in his ear, breath hot against his skin, pulling his belt loose, his trousers open, every movement clumsy, as seemingly random as he can make it.

"Goddammit!" Ryan shoves at the walker, but Sam's got a few pounds on him at this point, and it's kind of like to trying to shift a boulder. Plus he needs to focus on keeping that hungry mouth a good arm's length away before it starts tearing at his flesh.

"Rar," Sam snarls, gnashing his teeth at Ryan's throat, the gun grabbed up from the ground, shoved between them, the muzzle nudged between Ryan's thighs.

Ryan freezes in an instant, though he's still working to hold Sam off. He stares into the walker's eyes in a flash of horrified denial. "No."

Sam growls, keeping Ryan pinned while he works his trousers down enough to get the gun right in there, between Ryan's cheeks, the muzzle at his hole now. He's not sure exactly how mindless zombie works with fucking Ryan with the gun but he could care less. It fucking works for him, his cock so achingly hard it feels like he could cut glass with it.

"No!" Ryan shouts. Rick Grimes would probably get out of this situation in a flash, and manage to take the walker's head off in the process... However, Ryan is a bit hobbled by the fact that secretly he doesn't actually _want_ to stop Sam. Hell no, he wants to help. He wraps his hands around Sam's throat - lightly enough that it's really just for show - and rocks his hips once.

Another growl and Sam pushes the gun into Ryan's hole, working the barrel deeper, his own cock straining at the scrubs he's wearing, ground against Ryan's thigh. Fuck.

Ryan arches his back and lets out a keening wail. His fingers flex in their grip on Sam's throat, and he writhes against his so-called attacker, but all that thrashing around is just to cover for how he's trying to work that gun even deeper inside himself. Because it feels just wrong wrong _wrong_.

The gun as deep as he can get it, Sam starts fucking Ryan with it, showing no mercy as he shoves it into his boy again and again. He grunts with every thrust, growling between them, still gnashing his teeth at Ryan's throat as they carry out this bizarre roleplay.

Of course, Ryan - being Ryan - can't keep up the charade for long. Abruptly he switches from pretending to push Sam away to tangling his fingers in his lover's hair and pulling him in for a frantic hungry kiss.

Fuck. Sam groans into Ryan's mouth, his cock throbbing violently, his hand twisting the gun even deeper. "Go ahead," he growls, biting into the kiss. "Whenever you can."

Ryan whimpers, a desperate sound. He's getting Sam's elaborate zombie make-up all over his own face now, and the lipstick tastes funky. He couldn't care less. He's completely fucked up and he knows it, and it's so fucking brilliant to know that his lover is right there with him. One more slide of that cold metal barrel inside his ass, and-- he howls, his cock spraying and smearing them both, and he fucks himself onto the gun with every last wicked aftershock.

It's only with every fucking last ounce of willpower Sam has that he stops from coming right there and then, just creaming the inside of his scrubs, his cock rutted against Ryan's thigh. "Fuck," he grits out, easing the gun from Ryan's hole and tossing it aside. "Want inside you," he demands, shoving at Ryan's clothes.

"Yes," Ryan gasps, "Yes. Please!" He manages to get his jeans partway down and then he just rolls to his hands and knees, bracing himself in the chilly carpet of fallen leaves.

There's no thought for gentle, no thought for what's come before, just need, sheer, bare need as Sam lines up and pushes in, sinking his cock deep with one sharp thrust, his hands on the fronts of Ryan's thighs, holding him in place.

Ryan howls, and god it just feels so damn good to let go. To completely surrender his self-control. He shoves back against his sir, hips working frantically, Sam's cock brutally driving into him again and again. It reduces Ryan to his rawest self.

Sam fucks Ryan into the ground, his boy just barely keeping himself upright as he drives into his already battered hole, chasing his orgasm with a relentless determination. When it does come, he shouts, nothing held back, the sound filling the air around them as his hips pump and his cock spurts, flooding Ryan's ass with his thick hot seed.

Whimpering softly now, Ryan rocks on his knees, his sir slick inside him. "So good," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "You feel so good inside of me."

"Better than the gun?" Sam murmurs, unable to resist, his cock still pulsing inside Ryan, hands rubbing over his hips.

Shivering, Ryan snorts a laugh. "For sure a lot fucking warmer." He looks back over his shoulder at his lover. "Take me inside? Or are you just going to eat me here?"

Sam laughs. "Don't tempt me. You want to go back to the party or call it a night?" he asks, easing gently out and then rising to his feet, his hand held out to help Ryan up.

Ryan winces slightly as he stands, then stretches his arms out behind him, arching his back with a sigh. "Let's go back to our room. I'll help you wash all that off," he murmurs, reaching out to brush his finger over Sam's painted chin.

Sam grins, tilting his head to kiss that finger. "We can take another nice long soak," he offers, thinking Ryan might really need it at this point.

"Yeah." Ryan slips his arms around Sam's neck, melting into his lover's warmth. "That sounds perfect."


End file.
